Cracked Product
by Sunny-D57
Summary: Wally West is horrified when he realizes his parents have no money to their name, and a stack of debts. His dad's never home, he's always working. Wally starts to work to make ends meet, trying and failing to do the right thing. Which leads to a lot of mistakes, a lot of angst and Wally starting to crack. Warning: Dub-con, Mild-prostitution, Underage. No pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Dont Own Note: **

**The prostitution is really mild (like two chapters, not that explicit because I honest to god couldn't figure out a way to get Wally prostituting that made sense, y'know? I don't know when I started writing this, but I found it on my computer, two thirds of the way done :P So I'm posting and finishing it this weekend. Alongside Wally of the Bat-Clan obviously. **

**But seriously, this is just one ball of angst and depression. **

**So be warned. **

* * *

Wally was thirteen when his life began to change. It all started with an assignment for school. Calculate your family's monthly expenses. Wally never really took his geography class seriously, because really, who cared about rain and stuff. But this new human geography unit was different. So far, they'd had to study calculate their eco-footprints, they'd had to determine the city's energy output, and GDP. So he was surprised when this assignment came up. It was all in an attempt to learn how much money the average family in Central City contributes to taxes and how much money they save.

So Wally had tackled the assignment with ease. He'd asked his mother for some of the bills, asked her about the savings, and then called Robin and asked him to hack his parents tax accounts and send him the real details. What returned made Wally's eyes pop out of his head.

His parents had_ no_ savings. His father, as a mechanic, contributed a paltry monthly wage of approximately three thousand dollars to the household. Their annual income was thirty six thousand dollars. His mother didn't have a job, and she blew almost four hundred dollars on personal expenses. His father used almost six hundred dollars to commute with his job. He had to travel quite a bit, though Wally wasn't sure why. The remaining two thousand dollars was split between grocery bills and the house mortgage. His family was living pay-check to pay-check.

Worse still, the had a credit card bill that they never paid off. With the calculations Wally made, his parents had a seven thousand dollar debt on their head, and no way to pay it off. Wally suddenly understood why his father was so disappointed in Wally's ambitions to be a superhero. Superheros did their work voluntarily. They didn't pay bills.

Robin, being the good friend he was, never asked Wally about the bank statements. He never even looked at them, so Wally was able to shrug the entire thing off when Robin asked about it. For his assignment, Wally fudged the numbers to look like his desk-mate, Sally Johnson's.

But after that class, the sick feeling in Wally's stomach never went away. He started to wonder how his parents afforded things. He felt guilty each time he saw his mother restock the fridge, and knew thanks to Wally, they were spending five hundred dollars more on the grocery bill then necessary. If they could somehow save that money, maybe his dad wouldn't have to work as much. Maybe he'd be home more often. Maybe, just maybe.

* * *

So, Wally now knows he needs to make more money. Unfortunately, for a thirteen year old kid, there aren't many options to make money. He considered getting a job, but that would interfere with the hours he spends as a hero. Finally, he came up with an acceptable solution.

"I'm selling my notes for twenty dollars per subject," said Wally to the assembled crowd of students, "Anyone interested?"

By the end of the day, he'd gotten six prospective buyers for his science notes. It's not enough money. He'd thought everyone in the class would want his science notes. But out of thirty kids, he barely scraped six. Scowling, Wally began walking home in a sullen silence. This wasn't fair. Why did other people have to be good note-takers and share with their friends?

"Hey! West!' called out a voice.

Wally turned to see Billy Johnson, his desk-mate, walking up to him. Billy was a head taller than Wally, with dark brown hair and a pimply face. Puberty was not kind to him. The larger, bulkier boy glanced over at Wally, and then looked around the street.

"Are you really in need of money?" asked Billy, looking- well, scheming.

"Yeah, I want some cash, why?" said Wally, curious.

"Well, if you do my science homework, I'll pay you ten bucks. And the assignment Ms. Goldeen has coming up, I'll give you fifteen for that," said Billy.

"You have that much money? It's an up-front kind of deal," said Wally, unimpressed. What thirteen year old carries around that kind of cash?

"I get a twenty dollar allowance weekly," said Billy with a scoff, "I can pay."

"Deal," said Wally with a shrug, "Pay me the cash tomorrow by the old oak tree, and I'll have your stuff done."

"By tomorrow?" asked Billy, surprised.

"Yep," said Wally firmly.

And like that, Wally goes home grinning. He's in business now.

* * *

It's been a full week since he sold copies of his notes- that he had to hand write!- and made the deal with Billy. Word has gotten out, and everyone knows Wally's the resident science nerd. He's made three hundred dollars.

Unfortunately, that tattle-tale Linda Park went and told Mr. Davis, the school principle, on the grounds of being an investigative reporter. Wally was furious with her. His mother, Mary, was furious with him. The two of them were walking out of the principle's office, his arm being pulled by the older woman.

"Suspended! For a week! You could have been expelled! What were you thinking?!" she yelled, "That was the most humiliating hour of my life! Where the hell is the money you've been taking?"

"I'll give it to you when we get home," said Wally with a groan, his arm hurting but not really because hyper-accelerated healing had it's advantages that way.

"You're grounded, you hear me young man! And I'm keeping that money! You aren't going to spend a dollar of it on candy or video games!" Mary said, as the two get into the car. "And I'm going to tell Uncle Barry to ground Kid Flash for the week you're suspended! Just wait until your father hears about this!"

"Dad's home?" asked Wally, surprised and delighted.

"Yes he is," said Mary, her lips pursing, "And he's going to be absolutely furious.

* * *

She was right, of course. Wally was sent straight to his room when they got back. His mother and father were speaking too quietly in the kitchen to hear anything. After a few minutes, his father's booming voice called out, "Wallace Rudolph West, get your butt down here right now!"

And despite the fact that Wally wase flinching, and the fact that he was totally terrified, he was grinning like an idiot. Because his dad is home after a two week long business trip! Then he frowns. He has no idea how long dad will be back this time, and because of this stupid thing with the principle, he's not going to get to spend some time with his dad until he goes off again.

"What do you have to say for yourself Wallace?" asks his dad, sitting at the dining table with a frown on his face.

Wally looks nothing like his father. He's a tall man, with dark brown hair, heavy-set brown eyes, and a full brown beard. His father had wrinkles around his eyes, and in his forehead. He's tall too, and built like a bull. Wally used to want to be that big when he grew up. Now he knows it's a pipe dream. He's too small and thin and runner-like to ever be that muscular.

"I'm sorry," said Wally, and he's sincere about it. He's sorry he got caught.

"No son of mine would be caught helping others cheat," said Rudolph angrily, "That's a crook's way of thinking. Are you a crook?! Are you stupid enough to be a goddamned crook?!"

"No sir," said Wally, trying to keep his voice even. His dad hates tears.

"Well then why are you acting like a god damn crook?! I work hard to put food on your plate- or in your case, plates! Why the hell are you shaming me like this?! First you went and blew yourself up like a moron, and now this! What were you thinking Wallace?" asks Rudolph, and Wally bit his lower lip.

"Stop that," chides Mary, swatting his cheek lightly so he lets go of his lip.

"I wasn't sir," replies Wally, trying to stay steady, "It won't happen again dad, I promise."

"This is why I don't come home as often Mary," said Rudolph, now ignoring him, "Because shit like this always happens when I get back. Go to your room Wallace, and stay there."

Wally was trembling now, his fists shaking and his eyes were stinging. He turned, and his mother ignored him as she poured herself a glass of wine. Wally was moving so fast, that by the time he got to his room, his tears are hot down his face, and he's almost burnt the wood below him. But now, in the safety of his room, he blots his eyes, and contemplates getting a paper route instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't Own**

**I can't believe the overwhelming support I'm getting for this fic! Yes, it is super angst. Hell, this chapter is angst central, pretty much. Also, this has no real update schedule, beyond being updated every 5 days-ish. That's a bit awkward to think about, but it's a shorter story than my other ones, with no apparent sequels as of yet, so I have a more flexible update schedule, and also, I just want to drag it out a bit as I edit and add things in. This chapter is shorter, but it sets the tone for the rest of the story. **

**Warning: Major angst and depression ahead. **

* * *

**Money, Money, _Money_**

It's been two months since the_ incident_. His Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris were also disappointed in him. His Uncle Barry asked why he did it, and Wally lied. He _lied_ to his Uncle Barry. He knew his parents didn't want him to know about their finances. He instinctively knew that they didn't want anyone else to know. Wests were proud, after all. And he also knew that Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris had just bought a new house.

Wally didn't go to Robin this time to calculate their earnings. He was able to find an approximate salary and figure out their mortgage and debts from peeking at the bills that Aunt Iris spread haphazardly on the kitchen table one night. He knew that Uncle Barry still had his student loans to pay. Being orphaned and getting a forensic scientist degree wasn't cheap. His Aunt Iris is better off, her loans all paid off thanks to Grandpa Ira and the money he left her when he passed away.

Their mortgage, however, was costly. They weren't able to get a good deal, mostly because neither had enough time to look in other banks for a better interest rate. He also knew that Uncle Barry's grocery bill was higher then his own because Barry was a full-time speedster. So he knew that neither Uncle Barry nor Aunt Iris can be asked for money. They had their own loans to pay off, and had just barely started saving for their futures.

So Wally reassured them that it was nothing, just a mere whim to sell his notes, and began contemplating his job opportunities. Somewhere in all this worrying, he turned thirteen. Eventually, Wally settled on getting a paper route. It was tedious, and dull, and he couldn't use his super-speed because the neighbors would notice something was up. Plus, he sucked at throwing projectiles and controlling his speed, so one of the papers ended up burning up the one time he tried.

Wally served about fifty houses with his new job, and made about seventy dollars a month. And it was still no where near enough. His dad was still going off on his business trips, putting in extra hours, and he was sure things weren't fixed. Even his minor calculations and best-case scenario situations proved things weren't well.

Not yet.

Slowly, Wally found that he had become _obsessed_ about money. He had calculated the cheapest way to buy his lunch at the school cafeteria, and maintain the nutrients he needed as a speedster. Wally had also begun to accompany his mother grocery shopping, and switched the expensive fruits, wines and breads his mother picked up to cheaper wines, fruits and breads when she wasn't looking. She didn't even notice. He picked up things on sale in bulk, so that his parents could start to save. So that his dad wouldn't have to work as much.

But it wasn't working.

He had only managed to economize and save two hundred dollars per month, and his paper route salary was just enough to cover his own expenses. Whatever he could save from that, he used to replenish things around the house sometimes, pay for his school lunches, buy an extra set of pencils. The saved money that didn't go to _his_ needs helped in paying off some of their loans, Wally assumed, but the optimal solution would be if his mother were to get a job.

So he set about to fix that.

"Hey mom. How come you never went back to work after I was born?" Wally asked, approaching the topic lightly at the dinner table.

His mother put down the glass of wine she was sipping from, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. A frown graced her features, and she asked, "Why are you asking?"

"Well, Amanda Kipper's mom and dad both work," began Wally calmly, referring to their next door neighbor, "So it just struck me that you don't. Don't you get bored at home all day?"

"I'm not Mrs. Kipper," said Mary with a frown, "And I do work at home. Someone has to do the laundry and the dishes. Did Amanda's mother say something to you about me not working?!"

"No! Not at all! It's just, a lot of women work nowadays," continued Wally, hoping his mother got it.

"Are you ashamed because I don't work?" asked Mary, looking angry.

"Of course not!" said Wally, horrified, "Just- There are a lot of job opportunities out there mom. You could start a business from home, or get an online job or even work part-time-

"What has gotten into you Wally?" asked his mother, miffed, "Your father is doing just fine making money for us, and I won't have you questioning him in our house! Is this why you helped those kids cheat a few weeks ago? Because you want more money in the house?! Just because we can't get you the nicest toys, and because you have to wait a week for Christmas doesn't mean that you have the right to tell me to get a job!"

"I didn't mean it like that mom!" said Wally, eyes wide.

"And besides, we're making ends meet just fine even with your condition," continued his mother, taking a large gulp of her wine, "Go to your room Wally until you learn some respect! I will_ not_ have that kind of behavior in my house!"

And Wally ran up the stairs, his hand shaking. Down at the dinner table, Mary West sighed, and poured herself another cup.

* * *

"You told Mary to get a job, kiddo?" asked his Aunt Iris, looking amused as she took a seat on the couch beside Wally. He shifted and laid his head in her lap, looking every bit the put out thirteen year old kid that had gotten yelled out just a few days before Christmas.

"I didn't mean anything by it!" said Wally immediately, "I didn't mean to get her so mad!"

"Is that why she wanted you staying over here this weekend?" asked Barry in surprise, as he popped in a movie.

Wally was spending the weekend with his Uncle and Aunt. His mother had been angry at him ever since the comment about her getting a job. Wally had apologized every time he saw her, trying to get her to calm down, but nevertheless, she'd told him that she needed some space and sent him off to his aunt and uncle's place for the weekend.

It didn't_ hurt._

"I know you didn't," said Iris sweetly, as she ran her hand through his hair, "I've told her to get a job numerous times, but she's never budged. She always said Rudy can handle the expenses. That the money's his responsibility."

Barry and Iris exchanged a look, one that Wally couldn't quite make out as his aunt's hand ran through his hair, soft and soothing. He saw his Uncle Barry get that uncomfortable look on his face, that sort of resembled a man looking as though he was about to jump off a ledge, as he looked over at Wally.

"Wally," he said, rubbing the back of his neck like he usually did when nervous, "Did- I mean- Are your parents, well, having trouble? Financially?"

Wally's heart nearly dropped out of his chest. He sat up far too quickly and stared at his Uncle Barry with a slack jaw. He didn't know how to respond to that, and his Aunt Iris took his hand and squeezed it, shaking him out of his reverie.

"We're only asking because you seemed a little off Wally," said his Aunt kindly. "I asked your mother, but Mary said that everything was fine."

"Yeah- No- I mean- We're not having _any_ problems!" squeaked Wally immediately, following his mother's lead. "It's just-

His mind began racing through several options and scenarios, and after ten subjective minutes of thinking, or about a minute of real time thinking, enough to warrant a sheepish pause rather than nervous panic, "I really want this laptop for Christmas, and I know my parents won't be able to afford it."

"So you wanted your mother to get a job?" asked Barry, sounding a little surprised, "Is that why you took the paper route?"

"Yeah," said Wally automatically, "But paper routes suck. I'm barely making enough money to cover the cost of my_ snacks_!"

Which wasn't necessarily true. It covered lunch, for the most part. Extra milk when combined with coupons. Course, he had to give up the jello and stick to the more vegetarian options, but that was okay. He always liked carrots more than bacon anyways.

"Oh sweetie," said Iris, smiling at his pathetic little pout, "Which one do you want?"

"The one Rob has," said Wally automatically, "It's really great for making simulations and it's super fast. I even asked Dick if he'd stolen Barry's notes and blew up his laptop to get it that fast."

The two adults chuckled at the joke, and Wally felt relief pour through his muscles, loosening them. He had thrown them off his trail, and they weren't going to investigate the matter anymore. He felt a bit ashamed that he came off as the bratty teenager, but he didn't want to piss off his mom further. And he really didn't want his Aunt and Uncle to try and cover his family's debts. Especially not when he was a _huge_ cause of those debts.

"If that's the case then just save your money up and we'll cover what's remaining, okay?" offered Aunt Iris, and Wally felt himself getting sick at the idea. That was not part of the plan!"

"Sweet Aunt I!" said Wally, wrapping her in a hug so that he could hide his frown. This was _not_ part of the plan.

* * *

Christmas rolled around, and Wally, to his disappointment, got the laptop. His Aunt and Uncle had split the cost with the Garricks and his parents. Wally had no idea how much the laptop cost, and he wished he could be pissed off with Dick for even having such an expensive laptop, but the kid was the son of a billionaire.

It wasn't his fault Wally was an expensive child.

Wally, still, with immense guilt, had been semi-thrilled to have it. Dick had uploaded his own Christmas present onto it, and he could now Skype his best friend without Batman having a conniption about security matters. But Wally had never been so disappointed when opening his presents at Christmas then he had at that one.

* * *

**Review Replies:**

lesbianmagari: Yeah, I'm really glad I got through to the server. It was so annoying when it wasn't working. I felt cheated.

Queen of deNile: Thank you!

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Mythology Girl: No promises. Just, well, the next chapter is going to be awful.

MorbidCheese: Haha, that's a great analogy. And yeah, the angst here is well, yeah. I'm almost done writing the ending, but... things happen. And it really sucks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't Own**

**This chapter was the angst and scare and oh man oh man things are getting ugly. Be warned. Also, I'm really glad to see the positive response. So I hope this chapter doesn't scare anyone off. Next update will be Nov. 30th. **

**Warning: Major angst and depression ahead. Dub-Con Ahead! BEWARNED! **

* * *

**Desperation and Drowning**

The paper route carried on until July. Wally learned Speedy's secret identity somewhere in that time, and had been both thrilled and disappointed to have another billionaire's son for a best friend. The only other sidekick, Aqualad, turned out to be from a pretty standard Atlantean family. Except apparently Aquaman covered most of Aqualad's expenditures as either a sidekick or student. He was the King's sidekick after all.

And that was totally not fair in any way because his uncle was a blue-collar man who had to work for a living. Wally's Aunt was a reporter, and while she was doing well at GBS, she wasn't by any means making enough money to pay off his teenage superhero debts. The issue of money was now racing through his mind on a daily basis.

"Hey Uncle Barry," he asked casually over dinner one night at his Uncle's house, "How do we afford the hero and partner gig? I mean, Roy and Dick and Kaldur have money pouring out of their ears, and we're- ordinary."

His Uncle Barry looked up in surprise, and then laughed. Aunt Iris raised an eyebrow, and casually asked, "What's the sudden curiosity?"

Wally waved his arms dramatically and with his usual flair for drama said, "Hello! Two of my best friends are billionaire kids and the third works for a King! It's pretty easy to tell how they get around all this stuff."

"Well, most of them have to pay for the cost of their weapons and stuff," said Barry lightly, "Whereas we don't have to do that. All we pay for is the food. Before the Justice League started up, it just meant solving more cold cases and putting in a few extra night shifts. Central started a donation box, but well, the Rogues made it a point to rob that bank, or the center, or whatever every time it got started. It got to the point where I just asked them to keep the money to themselves because it was just creating more work for me. But after the League began, the United Nations began offering the League heroes small stipends to make ends meet. Technically we get a small wage, it's made up of donations and things like that, and it's a lot more secure than the Central attempts. Costumes and the Hall of Justice and all that stuff is covered by those donations and stipends. The rest, well, Bruce and Ollie have been footing the bill for years to the more private stuff."

"So, you're getting paid?" asked Wally, a bit confused. If Uncle B was getting paid, shouldn't he have a salary too? Or was that only for League members? If so, when did he get to join the League?

"Not in the way you're thinking," said Barry quickly, "All medical care for you and I, the zeta-tubes all over Central, your goggles, all of that comes from the League's coffers. Our costumes, the League covers. And that's the rule for all the sidekicks as well."

"And Bruce and Ollie can afford all that?!" asked Wally, amazed by the sheer amount of money the two had.

"They aren't billionaires if they couldn't," joked Barry, "But most of it they do cover. Arthur covers any of the bills the two have trouble picking up, as well as supplying money to cover any costs that would look suspicious in their tax funds, and Diana chips in too."

"Wonder Woman's rich?" asked Wally, his mind blown apart by all these facts.

"Not like that, kiddo," said Barry gently, "But she is a princess."

"I never realized how complicated the League's financial system was," said Iris, as she sat down beside her boys, "How did you afford all this stuff before the League?"

"Bank loans, whatever donations I could scrap from the Central donation box or whatever kind people would thrust at me when I passed," said Barry with a shrug, "And lots of cold cases. That's why so many people end up joining partnerships, to help cut costs."

_Except I don't contribute anything to our partnership, _thought Wally miserably, as he glanced over at his Uncle Barry, who was still talking to his audience.

"And that's why heroes are really desperate to enter the Justice League," said Barry, "Because being a part of the League means that it's easier to pay off your debts and live a relatively easy civilian life. But it's also why the League is selective on who we take in, because it's a lot of money to spend on someone, and the bills go up dramatically with just one person. We try and hire after Doomsday plots both because it's the perfect time to get some more hands on deck, and also because it's when people are most generous to donate money to the League and the UN is willing to increase the money they spend on the Justice League Charter."

"Makes sense," said Iris with a gleam in her eye, "And I'm never allowed to write about it, am I?"

"Absolutely not," said Barry with a grin, "But at least you know when to start writing a report about new heroes joining."

* * *

After the informative dinner with his Uncle Barry, Wally found himself thinking about finances. Not really a new thought, but one that had taken on a much darker message. But for the first time, he was thinking of money in relationship to his future.

He didn't have any support financially. His parents were just barely covering themselves. One day, if he wanted to, he'd go to university. But at this rate, he could barely afford community college. He knew the stories of how his Uncle B got through university. He'd worked a paper route since he was ten, saved up money with various part time jobs. And he still had loans to pay off. Wally had none of that. What were his loans going to look like? Would anyone even give him a loan?

He didn't have the same time his Uncle B had as a kid. He couldn't get a job with fixed hours. His Uncle Barry might need him to fight Captain Cold or Heatwave. There could be a fire. People could be in danger.

Why did this have to be so hard?

* * *

It was an early September night, and Wally had just finished patrol with his Uncle Barry before returning home. It was only around eleven o'clock at night by the time patrol wrapped up, when his mother sent him a text asking if he could grab some milk. Wally was used to his mother sending texts late at night that he thought nothing of it. He shrugged and decided to grab it from the nearest convenience store, before running home in his civvies.

As he changed into his civvies, he realized his alley-way wasn't as empty as he thought. A man, skinny and gaunt with a scruffy beard and reeking of alcohol was propositioning a tiny woman. The woman had short brown hair, and looked more boyish then female, but her subtle curves suggested she was a woman.

Until she spoke.

"Look old man," said the very masculine voice, "I ain't interested in playing baby boy."

"I'll pay you eighty dollars," said the man with a whine, "C'mon."

"Hundred twenty and I'm in," said the man.

"I only got eighty bucks," said the drunk, and the man sighed.

"No deal then," said the woman-man, man-woman. Person.

"Well- Fuck you bitch!" said the man, before grumbling and stomping away.

Wally had watched the exchange with wide eyes. Eighty dollars was more then he made in one month! This man was willing to blow it for a night with a baby boy. Wally had no idea what exactly that entailed beyond a little acting, but suddenly, he felt curious. He forgot to take his goggles and gloves off before he went after the man.

"Hey," said Wally, calling out to the man.

"Whaddya want kid?" asked the man, sounding irritated.

"That offer- eighty bucks, does it- what do you want for it?" asked Wally, hesitant at first.

The man stared at Wally for a minute, and Wally felt self-conscious and turned pink. The man looked him over, up and down, and then went silent. Wally wondered if he was making the wrong decision.

"You do roleplay?" asked the man, sounding very serious. At least he wasn't laughing.

"Sure," said Wally hesitantly, when his eyes widened.

Oh.

Fuck.

He was being-_ propositioned_.

For sex.

_Sex_.

Shit.

Now, Central was no means like Gotham, but it did have it's own seedy underbelly of crime. Prostitution and drugs were actually pretty common crimes in Central. Central had the third highest prostitution rate after Gotham and Star City. Central and Metropolis were where most of the kids from the Midwest ran off to, and the ones that didn't make it often turned to drugs or prostitution. It was just, as Kid Flash, most of his work extended to stopping robberies and rescuing citizens. He hardly ever encountered crimes of this nature. Uncle Barry had never let him near it.

He should probably run. But the man started to talk, and Wally was still processing the idea of being propositioned for illegal, underage sex.

"Shit kid," said the man, "You look like a freaky virgin with those goggles and shit. That your gig?"

"Er- kind of," replied Wally, feeling uneasy. Maybe he should back off. But eighty bucks in one night... For _sex_. He should really_ really_ walk away.

"Whatever, I'm in," said the man, "What can eighty bucks get me?"

Wally paused. It didn't _have_ to be sex? Could he get away with kissing? He'd kissed that girl Tina before. It wasn't too bad.

He really hadn't thought this through.

Still contemplating what to reply, he didn't realize the man in front of him was getting agitated. When he took too long to respond, the man sighed and said, "Fine. Just do the roleplay and a handjob- or that a bit too much for you kid? Shit, this is why I stay away from the freaks."

"I can- I can do that," said Wally, swallowing as he followed the man to the back of the alley. Hand-job. That was like masturbation, wasn't it? He'd done that to himself before. It wouldn't be weird.

Walk away!

Eighty dollars.

Walk away right now.

He_ needed_ to contribute.

They were behind the dumpster and Wally paused, still panicking. There was no backing out once he took the money. He should go. He should stay. This was so _so_ wrong. He suddenly felt really cheap. This was- Was it worth it?

No.

"Are you gonna start kid or are you chickening out?" asked the man with a scoff.

"No- I'm- yeah," said Wally, taking a deep breath, getting ready to work out a way to get out of this dangerous- very dangerous- very wrong- situation.

After a few sped up subjective minutes of thinking and plotting various scenarios on how to walk away without getting into a fight, the man forward and placed his hand on Wally's waist, and Wally's thoughts broke. Shit, they were starting. Not now- he wasn't- at least give him a minute to get ready!

"Hey- hang on!" said Wally, nervously.

The drunk man growled, and said, "I didn't pay for no back-talk, baby. Get with the fucking mood."

"I-

Wally was cut off by his body being pushed back into the wall beside the dumpster. It was hard and cold on his back, slightly moist too. But it was better than in front of him.

For a thin man, he was fucking heavy! The goggles were tugged off and dropped to the damp, dirty ground. The smell of garbage, rotting food and alcohol slipped into his mind. He felt a bit exposed as the man moved forward, and tipped his head back. The man, whose name Wally just realized he didn't even know, ran his hand through Wally's hair, before using it to tilt Wally's head back and press his lips to Wally's. Wally's eyes widened as the taste of alcohol overpowered in his mouth. The man's teeth sloppily tugged at Wally's lower lip, and a startled cry was produced from the boy.

They were starting now!?

He wiggled a bit, trying to figure out what the hell was happening as the man tugged at his hips, pulling them forward and creating friction.

"Are you goin' to start or what?" growled the man, grinding his own larger hips into Wally, who nervously almost vibrated in response.

He got a groan and a satisfied gasp from the drunk from the involuntary friction.

Now, after getting his new WayneTech laptop, fit with Bat-level security, Wally had been taken the opportunity to look at porn, both out of curiosity, and because he was fourteen and that sort of stuff was talked about in high school and he didn't want to be completely ignorant. He wasn't a complete novice. He'd stumbled upon kinky stuff like that. But never between two guys. Just a girl being playing the role of 'baby-girl' to an older man. Taking what he remembered from that, he struggled to put it together.

What was he doing?

He had to -

"Oh that's good. Sweet little boy, you're such a good boy," groaned the man into his ear, and Wally stopped for a second, shocked before gasping out, "Wha- I'm- I'm a good boy?"

It sounded so real, so sweet. So caring. Nobody but Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris thought he was a good kid. He could barely make enough to support his mom and himself. The man hummed in agreement, and Wally felt a knee going between his legs, and he gasped again as it rubbed in places Wally didn't want rubbed.

This was getting weird fast.

He should go.

Like now.

"You've been such a good boy for your daddy, just let daddy take care of you, okay?" asked the man gently, running a hand on Wally's thigh.

That sounded so sweet, caring. Wally whimpered involuntarily, and then his mouth was filled with a tongue and he forgot what he was thinking because there was a _tongue_ in his mouth. He groaned around it, and found himself drawing a blank. The kissing wasn't pleasant per say, but it wasn't highly uncomfortable either.

"Get your hand in daddy's pants and show him how much you love him, baby," said the man, and Wally froze nervously as the sound of a zipper broke the night silence.

The glove was stripped from his hand, and then the hand was dragged and wrapped around the base of the stranger's _penis_. What was he doing? How the fuck did he end up here? There was no escaping this now.

Wally shuddered as he began to slowly tug on the thing in his hand, letting his mind go blank. Just get out of this without making things worse. Just be a_ good_ boy. It felt strange and hot in his hand. It wasn't that thick, but it was long. Wally found it getting sticky as he rubbed along it, his thumb running over the head and feeling the soft skin there. It was larger then his own cock, and there was a roughness to it that he hadn't expected. He took a deep breath and mimicked the things he liked to do, slowly and steadily as he worked up the courage and let his mind go blank, trying to forget about . The man gave a groan, and muttered, "Good boy, such a good boy."

"Really? I'm- I'm a good boy- Daddy?" asked Wally, the thought breaking into his mind. For a second, he almost thought it was his father. Then he remembered where he was, and what he was doing, and he shuddered again.

The man was surprisingly gentle as he kissed Wally again this time, and despite the taste of alcohol on his breath, and the fact that Wally's hand was gently tugging on the other man's cock, Wally felt a thrill go through him. A sick thrill. He kissed the man back, the loneliness and ineptness feeling less- intense. He felt the man's hips suddenly thrust into his hand, and Wally broke the kiss, his eyes wide with horror as he stared at the sticky, smelly white fluid coating his fingers.

"You're such a good boy baby, Daddy's favorite little boy," said the man, dragging his wallet out and cheekily tucking the money into his back pocket.

Within the next five minutes, Wally was shaking and on his knees in an alleyway, a hand smelling bitter and still splotched with white, and seventy dollars in his back pocket.

* * *

**Review Replies: **

lesbianmagari: Thank you! And I know what you mean, Wally!angst and Wally!Whump's are my favorite, and I love love love to read and write those stories.

Androgynous-Heron: Definitely. She's sort of the cranky housewife, but I'll get more into her character later on. And I'm not sure what you mean about expensive type, but yeah, money is a major motivator.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't Own**

**Warning: Major angst and depression ahead. BEWARE! **

* * *

**Concealer**

When Wally got home that night, he took a long, relaxing shower. Complete with scalding hot water that felt like sharp knives prickling into his skin and left him pinker than raw meat.

Cliche. Overdone. The most textbook response that ever existed.

But it helped. When his skin was rubbed pink and raw and he could no longer feel or smell that man anywhere on him, he relaxed, for a moment. He still couldn't look at the money though. His thighs had started to bleed in the shower from where he'd scrubbed himself, trying to rid himself of the feeling of another man's leg grinding there. His own fear had saved him the disgrace of popping a boner. He doubted he'd ever be able to pop one again. At least the sheets wouldn't need to be washed as often. Water bill would be cut down.

The ironic humor was not appreciated. But it helped.

Wally stared in the mirror for a long time after his shower, trying to make sense of what he had just done, who he was, and what this meant for him. He could _never_ tell anyone what had happened._ Never._

He was a superhero. Kid Flash. His uncle was a cop for crying out loud. His parents, his aunt and uncle, his teachers, they had all lectured him about stranger danger and all that. He worked in the industry. He had_ known_ better.

That meant he had to hide the evidence. Get rid of all the truth about what had happened so nobody would ever know. He grabbed his jeans and shirt, staring at them for a long time. Eventually, he stuffed them into a plastic bag, and threw it under his bed. He couldn't throw them out just yet, it was too soon. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure he could leave his bedroom right now. And it was sort of funny, because after all, who said monsters didn't exist under the bed? With that morbid thought in his mind, he went to deal with the next big issue.

The money.

He forced himself to tuck it into a clear, white envelope, and then keep it separate from the paper route money. He still had no idea what he was going to do with it. At the time, he'd probably had a million things he thought of. Groceries. Mom's wine. Dad's finances.

Now he just didn't want to look at it. Ever.

The money smelled of the alleyway, damp with trash, with the faint lingering scent of alcohol that was nothing like the sweet wine and perfume his mother smelled like, but rather, a musky, dangerous scent of vodka, sharp and bitter to the nose. He shivered at the thought.

He couldn't believe what he'd agreed to tonight. What he had done for money. Had he lost his mind? How could he _do_ that?! His glove, bright yellow in colour, was untainted and sat mockingly beside the money on his desk.

He was Kid fucking Flash.

He had sold himself for a quick buck.

_"That your gig kid?" _

_ "Yeah." _

He'd been so fucking stupid!

In a fit of rage, he threw the glove into the trash. He was still shaking. He was supposed to be a hero. He wasn't supposed to get into those kind of situations! He was supposed to be rescuing vict-

No.

He was not a victim.

He had made his choices.

He was not a victim.

With that reassuring thought in mind, he fell into a fitful sleep. The dreams didn't go away.

* * *

"You lost your goggles and gloves?" asked Uncle Barry in surprise.

He'd called Wally in school today to ask if he wanted to go for a run after class. Normally, Wally would have jumped on the opportunity, but there was one minor problem.

"How did you lose both?" asked Aunt Iris, equally surprised.

Wally shifted uncomfortably in front of the both of them. He'd headed over to their place to explain the unexplainable. He was a messy kid, sure, but there was always a method to his madness, as Aunt Iris said fondly. Just because he stored his pencils under his desk by the chair didn't mean that he didn't know where they were. And he treasured his superhero stuff. Too much to lose them.

"I got into a scuffle after patrol with some thugs," said Wally easily, the lie smooth on his lips.

He was getting too good at this.

"Did they see your face?!" demanded Aunt Iris, paling at the thought that Wally's secret identity could be in jeopardy.

"No," said Wally confidently, "I smacked them out. But the goggles flew into the river."

"The river?" asked Uncle Barry, uncertain, "What were you doing there so late at night?"

Wally winced as the next lie flew from his lips, "A friend of mine said there was going to be a bush party there. He invited me to tag along, and I- I mean- I just sort of did. But I got lost and-

"Oh Wally," said Barry with a sigh, "I know being popular is important, but those parties are dangerous. Anything could have happened! And do you know the amount of times I see the guys getting called in because there's rumors of drugs at those things? And hardcore stuff too, like cocaine and heroin and whatever cocktail they've created for the week. It's dangerous kiddo."

"At least he didn't get hurt," said Iris, coming over to physically pat him down for bruises.

Wally held back the shudder at her touch, but just barely. He didn't deserve their concern. Uncle Barry was already moving on with a clap on Wally's shoulder as he said, "It's okay kid. It's all okay. Just don't get caught up in something like that again, alright?"

"Alright," said Wally, lips twitching to bite back the laughter, or maybe hysteria that was bubbling. Uncle Barry had no idea how awfully true those words were.

Or how much he didn't deserve them.

"I'll get Batman to build you a new pair," said Barry firmly, "But until then, you're off patrol, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," said Wally with a small pout, slipping into the role so easily he was terrified. Then with added concern, because he really didn't want to do this again, "Can you not tell mom about this?"

Iris looked at him with a deep, questioning glance, and then sighed when he pretended not to see her concern and said, "We have to explain why you aren't patrolling. And the goggles will take a few weeks to come in."

"Just tell her I lost them in a fight!" tried Wally eagerly.

"You want us to lie to your mom for you?" asked Uncle Barry, disappointment etched on his face, "It won't be bad kid. She'll be upset, sure, but I'll talk her down. You shouldn't lie, Wally. How else will we be able to help you?"

Wally nodded miserably.

"Let's watch a movie then," said Iris, taking Wally by the wrist over to the couch, "Hot fudge sundaes?"

"Please?" asked Wally, and Iris nodded.

* * *

Half-way through the movie, the Flash was called out on patrol, and Wally and his Aunt Iris sat on the couch. It was the old Aliens movies, and it was mind-numbing and just background noise. Wally was more focused on burrowing into his aunt, letting her hold him, wrap him in her warmth. She was real. Solid. Soft. Comforting.

And she smelled heavenly.

Like ice-cream and something a bit more fruity, like pomegranate.

It was so warm and made all the bad smells he couldn't forget go away.

"Wally," said his aunt softly, petting his head, "You'll tell us if you're being bothered in school, won't you? Or with your friends?"

Wally paused, feeling his entire body tense, before he relaxed. She thought it was bullying. With a yawn, he let his eyes flutter shut in her warm embrace as he promised, "O' course."

He could tell her about bullies.

They, after all, were safe.

* * *

Just as Wally had predicted, his mother did not take the news of his supposed shenanigans well. He was banned to his house until such time that his mother thought he could handle himself again. She had banned all friends from the home, and given him the typical, 'What would your father say?' lecture. His dad had yelled at him when he came for his once-every-few-months visit.

It sucked that every time his dad came home, he screwed up.

But now, Wally was in a catch twenty-two situation. One the one hand, he _wasn't _really a delinquent like his mother and father worried. On the other, he needed them to think he'd gotten involved in the wrong crowd and that's why he was acting weird.

Because he definitely wasn't acting normal.

His mother had pointed it out when she asked him why he always stayed in his room. She'd asked him about the jeans, and he'd lied and said he'd torn them badly at school. His father thought he was acting weird when he flinched at his father's touch. Uncle Barry had gone on a League mission, and Aunt Iris, though she called every night, Wally just couldn't bear to talk to her and listen to her litany of concern and love.

That was how he once again became friends with Billy Johnson.

Billy had not become a much better human being than he had been in elementary school when he'd shrugged off his homework assignments to Wally alongside fifteen dollars. A combination of a strong build, slightly handsome face when puberty kicked in, and an unhealthy amount of parental neglect alongside a large bank account, and you had the recipe for Billy Johnson. His current vices included football and beer and the occasional recreation drug. Marijuana was the flavor of choice, and the occasional LSD.

Billy's best friend, was a bigger, beefier guy called Jerry McGee who was undoubtedly on steroids of some kind and while he and Wally generally got along, the steroids messed with Jerry's head and often times he was in a bad mood and foul temper and would snap at anyone and everyone for seemingly nothing. Billy's girlfriend, Frances Kane, was a sweet-tempered, though strangely nice to him girl. She had an easy laugh, and was very nice for someone who got jealous of Billy's interactions with other girls too easily. The last friend of the group was a guy named Mick Tanner, and he was easily the scariest teenager Wally had ever met.

It had a bit to do with his tongue piercing, his "home-made" tattoo that Wally always felt inclined to check for gangrene when Mick rolled his sleeves up to reveal the python looking thing, and the crazy look in his eyes. But, it was also partially because he was a part-time drug dealer.

His life sure was looking up.

His dad would be so proud.

* * *

**So first of all, sorry for missing the five day update. My schedule's out of whack (I have a lot of shit due) and thus, I'm sort of sticking to the five day updates, but if I don't have time, it will be neglected. I'll post warnings on Tumblr. **

**That being said, the last chapter was sort of heavy. This one is too. So, I want to mention, because I feel like if I'm doing this story, I should have some sort of actual fact, because this is so far removed from the truth. The thing is, I have no psych degree, most of my stats and figures are going to be from studies and journals, yes, but that doesn't mean that I have actual knowledge on this subject that allows me to have a strong, well-thought out opinion or that this story is anything but a story. Any coincidences that relate to a personal story are not intentional or by design. I swear that while writing this, as well as the aftermath and further struggles and forays, that I am not attempting to stereotype, or generalize, or sweep things under the rug. Far from it. Also, I swear that to the best of my ability, I will try and keep things closer to the topic at hand, and that any and all references I make will be sourced from something proper. **

**But at the same time, this is a superhero story, and some of the stuff will be well, not so real. **

**So, that's my lengthy and fair warning going into this story as we foray into the darker stuff that is coming. (I know right- it gets worse?)**

**Review Replies: **

lesbianmagari: Thank you! And I adore Wally (Which is why I write Wally-angst. A lot. It's a sadist thing, but I think any writer is a sadist at heart. Just a little)

Androgynous-Heron: Ah. Thanks for clearing that up. And with that in mind, I can't really say, but it will become clearer. At least, later on. But as for the whump. It all starts to fall into place from here on out.


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